


A Crime Against Humanity

by BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse



Series: Bleach Time Travel One-Shots [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Developing Friendships, Forehead Kisses, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 12:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse/pseuds/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse
Summary: “Y-you—” Ichigo sputtered, standing up rigidly, pointing at Aizen as he blustered, “You kissed me!”Aizen rolls his eyes and turns, strolling away from the scene like he hadn’t just committed some type of crime against humanity.





	A Crime Against Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of the three aizen/Ichigo prompts i have. the other two are on hold because im not quite sure how to go about them, but this one seemed smiple enough

Ichigo stands in front of the river and stares out, his eyes glazed and his body shivering from the cold onslaught of rain. It’s been years since his mother died protecting him, yet he still can’t muster up the strength to move on. All he can do is ask for forgiveness from a woman who will never answer him. He’s been drowning for what feels like years, caught in a current that’s constantly tugging him under water, and Ichigo isn’t sure he can take it for much longer.

The pelting of rain is suddenly gone and it’s enough of a change that Ichigo’s eye refocus. He quickly blinks the clinging water away from his lashes and he slowly looks up. A warm brown eye stares down at him, it’s match hidden behind an odd-looking eyepatch. His brown hair is wet, like he’d been out in the rain just as long as Ichigo, with some of the locks sticking to his forehead.  The rest of his clothing is just as odd, Ichigo realizes, looking the man up and down. He’s dressed in mostly black and it looks almost restrictive. Ichigo returns his gaze to the slight smile the man wears, and he can’t help shivering for an entirely different reason then the chill that had been caused by the rain.

“You shouldn’t be standing out in the rain,” the man says softly, stepping even closer to Ichigo’s hunched form. The man has an umbrella, Ichigo suddenly realizes, and it’s a bright red, the color clashing horribly with the gray atmosphere that the cloudy day and rain has brought. He had some dampness clinging to him , Ichigo briefly noted, so he must have found it after getting rained on.

“What’s it to you?” Ichigo demands, a scowl forming on his face. He can feel himself getting angry, the depression he’s felt in his body eating up and burning away into anger. Who does this man think he is? What right does he have to force himself into Ichigo’s private time, the time he uses to mourn his mother? He is no one. He has no right.

“What is it to me, indeed,” the man replies idly, the same smile still pasted onto his face. His tone shifts to amused as he finishes his sentence, like everything Ichigo is going through is funny to him.

“Leave,” Ichigo hisses, his eyes narrowing at the burn of tears he feels building up. “Get lost!”

The man hums, like he’s actually considering listening to Ichigo, but then he rolls his visible eye and looks askance at Ichigo, like he’s judging him for getting them into this situation. He shifts suddenly, and with a resigned grunt, sits down next to Ichigo. He holds the umbrella above both of them still, like sitting on the wet ground isn’t getting him wet.

“I can’t do that,” the man replies calmly, turning to look out at the rushing water in front of them. “I made a promise once, to a man I knew, that I wouldn’t let anyone else drown.”

Ichigo’s scowl deepens at the words. This man, who has so rudely interrupted Ichigo’s thoughts, is butting his head into things that don’t concern him. His clam attitude just makes Ichigo angrier. He’s never this rude to strangers, his mother taught him better, but he can’t stand to look at this stranger’s unwavering face. In a tantrum, he lashes out and knocks the umbrella out of the man’s loose grip, sending it flying into the water in front of them. The man doesn’t flinch at Ichigo’s strike, just continue to watch the river run, his eye now tracking the umbrella as it floats away from them.

Ichigo’s breathing is heavy, warm erratic puffs of air leaving his gasping mouth. He’s doing his best to glare at the man, to keep his gaze unwavering even with the rain in his eyes, but his stance is starting to falter and the burning anger along with it. He fights to stay mad, fights to stay ready to lash out, but the anger is swiftly leaving him, the depression from before taking its rightful place. Ichigo hunches over, and with a choked sob, collapses next to the man, burying his crying eyes into his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs tightly.

The rain has increased now, the torrential downpour soaking him to the bone, but he barely notices, his ears ringing as he cries and cries. He feels like he’s actually drowning now, water everywhere. It’s exasperating his melancholy and he starts to gasp in between sobs, his choking making his breathing stutter. There’s a hand on his shoulder suddenly and then he’s being pulled into the man’s side. He can’t stop sobbing, can’t even open his eyes, but the radiating warmth from the body beside him cuts through the cold that had been clinging on to him. The hand on his shoulder moves to his back, rubbing slow comforting circles as his chest heaves. Ichigo lifts his head and buries it in the man’s side instead of his knees, his arms coming up to grasp desperately at the man’s dark clothing. It’s stiff and wet, but it brings him comfort nonetheless, to finally have something other than air to grasp on to. His father cares about him, Ichigo knows, but he’s been just as lost as Ichigo has, too busy taking care of the girls to comfort Ichigo like he craves.

“Shh,” the man comforts, starting to rock slightly. He brings his hand up to Ichigo’s wet locks and lets it settle there, not moving it even when Ichigo squirms closer. They stay there long enough for the rain to start letting up, the sting of the downpour now a softer, tickling shower. Ichigo sniffs lightly, his sobs having since petered off, and he raises his head, staying close to the man, but finally sitting up, his knees tucked close into him. The man pushes Ichigo’s hair back, stopping some of the water from getting into his red eyes. Ichigo rubs at them, flicking the tears and rain away so he can finally keep them open.

“It will always hurt,” the man says suddenly, though he keeps his voice soft. “The sting will just lessen over time.”

“Did your friend tell you that?” Ichigo asks, his voice hitching slightly as he fights off the remains of his fit.

The man’s soft grin turns into a smirk and it strikes Ichigo that this look, this fond little smirk, looks far more natural and genuine on the man’s face than any of his previous expressions. “Yes,” the man replies with a chuckle, looking down at Ichigo with fond exasperation. He starts to lean forward and Ichigo blinks in confusion, his face scrunching up as the man brushes a kiss against his forehead. Ichigo’s face starts to heat up the longer the man leaves his lips pressed against his wet skin and Ichigo opens his mouth to—do something, shout maybe?—when he feels the air around them still. He only has time to gasp at the pressure before he’s being tugged into oblivion.

Ichigo winces, pulling his hands up to his throbbing head as lips pull away from his forehead, the resounding chuckle following soon after.

“Shut up,” Ichigo groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Your voice gives me a headache.”

“As charming as ever, Kurosaki-kun,” Aizen responds, standing from their curled position, Ichigo flails, thrusting his arms out to catch him so he doesn’t fall into the ground when his support is suddenly gone. He groans again, slitting his eyes open to give the man a miserable look.

“Please,” Aizen snorts, brushing at his clothing in a vain attempt to rid it of wet grass. “You’ll be fine.”

Ichigo scowls at the lack of concern, but quickly gets over it It’s Aizen after all, what did he honestly expect? He stands too, wobbly in his younger body, and he starts to stretch, wincing at the tight and aching feeling his body is projecting at him. He’s reaching down to touch his toes when he suddenly remembers just what Aizen did.

“Y-you—” Ichigo sputtered, standing up rigidly, pointing at Aizen as he blustered, “You kissed me!”

Aizen rolls his eyes and turns, strolling away from the scene like he hadn’t just committed some type of crime against humanity.

“Hey! I’m not done shouting at you!” Ichigo screams, urging his small body forward to chase after the offending Shinigami. _Honestly_ , he thinks in a fond grumble, _whoever decided we were the best options for time travel was asking for this to go down in flames._

**Author's Note:**

> im not tagging underage because the forehead kiss was completely platonic. did aizen need to do that to transfer ichigo's reistsu/memories to his younger body? no, but he does care--plus, it would annoy the older ichigo. if this was going anywhere, they would eventually fall into a relationship, but as of right now its just aizen taking the piss.
> 
> :D


End file.
